


Feint (On Your Left)

by Nefhiriel



Series: Intersecting Lines [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Sam Wilson, Banter, Bromance, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Companionable Snark, Epic Bromance, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Manly Banter, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Snark, Sparring, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefhiriel/pseuds/Nefhiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after he’s released from the hospital, Steve and Sam spar—and one of them’s not afraid to steal a low blow.</p><p>(And it’s not who you think. Or maybe it’s exactly who you think.)</p><p>  <i></i><br/><b>(Minor spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier.)</b><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Feint (On Your Left)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbecamiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbecamiel/gifts).



> Some light-hearted birthday fic for my dear sister and beta, imbecamiel. *so many hugs*

Sam took in a deep breath of gym air. Sweat, and dust, and old leather. He could understand the need to get back in the game.

But, _still_.

“You sure about this, Steve?”

“Sure.”

Sam watched Steve turn around to face him on the mat. The limp was only slight, but Sam didn’t miss it. “But you’re _sure_ you’re sure? You just got out of the hospital.”

“They released me, didn’t they?” 

Sam shook his head. “You give us all a heart attack a couple days ago—”

“—and a whoopin’ today.” Steve raised his fists.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “So _that’s_ how it is?” 

“ _Oh_ , that’s how it is.”

“You’re on, old man. I’ll go easy on you.” 

He was only partially joking. Steve hadn’t put up a fight about being kept in the hospital until the worst of the damage had healed. But it had been a matter of _days_ , not weeks, before he’d been deemed sufficiently healed to be back on his feet. 

Days might be enough time for Steve to heal, technically, but it wasn’t enough time for Sam to get rid of the images. Images of Steve _almost dying_ from multiple gunshot wounds.

But, after all that had gone down, maybe they both needed a moment. An outlet.

They started slow. Circling. Exchanging a few jabs. Testing each other.

When Steve came forward, committed to a flurry of attacks, Sam managed to block them. Barely.

He had to smile, not only at the raw power of Steve’s attack, but also the strategic mind behind it. He’d been on the end of attacks from men like Rumlow before, where every blow was a battering ram trying to knock him off his feet. Steve’s style showed the tactician behind it, full of precision and forethought. There was strength, sure, but it was calculated.

Sam side-stepped, and backpedaled, and tried a few feints, himself—watching all the time for his opening.

Steve lunged forward, elbows down. Then a jab left his side unprotected, and Sam reared back for a strike of his own—

Then Steve stumbled with a grunt, and Sam’s concentration was shattered.

“Hey, your leg botherin’ you or something, because if you need—”

Before he could finish, Steve had swept Sam’s feet out from beneath him, sending him unceremoniously sprawling on his back.

He glared up at into smiling blue eyes. “That’s low, man. Below the belt.”

Steve shrugged, still grinning like a fool. “I spar with Agent Romanov.”

“Uh huh.” Sam narrowed his eyes, ignoring the hand up Steve tried to offer him. “Romanov’s a super-spy, or somethin’. ‘Course she fights dirty. But you’re Captain America. _Captain America_ ’s not supposed to cheat.”

“That wasn’t cheating.” Steve’s eyes went wide with perfect, pure innocence.

Sam waved a hand at him. “Playing on sympathies. _Whatever_. You’re Captain America! He doesn’t _do that_ _stuff_ , man! I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“Do you want a hand up, or—”

“—No, I do not want a hand up. I’m going to give _myself_ a hand up, because I don’t want to find myself in some ninja wristlock that _Agent Romanov_ taught you to do on unsuspecting friends who’re just trying to do you a favor.” 

“Sorry, Sam. That was really low of me.” He had his Captain America press-conference voice on, now: deep and wholesome and trustworthy.

Trustworthy. Right. 

“I’m lookin’ at your _face_ , dude, and believe me that smirk does not say ‘I’m sorry.’ It says a lot of things, but ‘sorry’ isn’t one of them. It’s not even in the _neighborhood_ of Apologies and Remorse.”

Steve had his hands on his hips in that nonchalant way that totally wasn’t calculated to show off his pectorals and biceps. And he was still grinning, like Sam sitting there on his butt was the most hilarious thing he’d seen in years. Possibly decades.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“You called me an old man.” Steve did a pretty decent job of wiping the smirk off and going deadpan, and now Sam was beginning to wonder how _often_ he was deadpanning it up on the outside while he had a good laugh on the inside.

Sam leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees, head hanging forward as he chuckled. “I don’t even _know_ you, do you? You’re _devious_ , man. Devious.” He pointed a finger. “But this means war, you know that, right?”

The smirk returned, and Sam realized Steve had him exactly where he wanted him.

“I’m counting on it, Sam.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
